


you're like ice (feels so nice)

by wistfulwatcher



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Face-Sitting, Friends With Benefits, Ice Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Temperature Play, but it does have some feelings, cat knows about supergirl, like seriously without plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5748448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfulwatcher/pseuds/wistfulwatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So,” Kara breathes across Cat’s neck, lips trailing over the curve of her skin. “I’ve been practicing.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're like ice (feels so nice)

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place in the future sometime where cat knows for real, but also in a world where kara didn’t have her freeze-breath ability (because i had this idea before i saw red faced, whoops).

 

“So,” Kara breathes across Cat’s neck, lips trailing over the curve of her skin. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Mmm?” Cat moans softly, fingers digging into Kara’s shoulders hard enough to leave bruises on human skin. Kara pulls back to see her face and Cat’s eyes flutter open before narrowing slightly. “ _Practicing_? You’re trying to make me jealous? How juvenile,” she says dryly, but her frame stiffens a little.

Kara feels it, and her heart pounds a bit harder at the implication that perhaps this _arrangement_ they have isn’t becoming more for just her.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kara slips one hand free from Cat’s side to fidget with her glasses, the other running soothingly over the dip of Cat’s spine.

It’s barely audible, but Cat’s breath catches, and she arches further into Kara’s touch. “Mmm,” Cat hums softly, her eyes dropping back down to Kara’s mouth. Her fingers slide over Kara’s jaw, thumb brushing her lower lip before Cat dips forward to kiss her deeply, _slowly_.

“ _Explain_ ,” Cat demands breathlessly across Kara’s mouth, barely parting from the kiss to say it. Her eyes are still closed, her fingers playing lazily with Kara’s ear.

Kara doesn’t use her super-speed, but in an instant she has Cat on her back, pressed into the expensive fabric of the couch in her penthouse. (They’d made it a rule early on to never, _ever_ do _this_ in the office. A rule they’ve only broken a dozen times, which, Kara thinks, is fairly impressive.)

Cat’s eyebrow quirks up, her eyes open at the sudden shift. Kara’s dominance is something she pretends—weakly, if you ask Kara—not to enjoy, but the increased heart-rate, the smell of her arousal, the dilated pupils? Well, they’re all pretty good tells.

“You’ve been practicing pinning? As Supergirl, I would assume that skill came with the cape,” she fingers the cardigan Kara’s wearing with disgust, clearly preferring her alter-ego’s wardrobe.

“Not that,” Kara clarifies unnecessarily, and sits back on her heels between Cat’s slightly parted thighs. Her pencil skirt is too tight—a complaint Kara is still shocked to think—it’s one that won’t bunch up to her hips, not as high as Kara wants it. “Something else.”

“Obviously,” Cat starts to push herself up, no longer sandwiched by Kara’s body, but Kara holds out one hand, gently holding her down with two fingers to her sternum (the lightest pressure possible—Cat is so delicate sometimes it frightens her). “Oh for god’s sake, Kiera, I think your identity as Supergirl is going to be a hard reveal to top, so if we could—”

Kara ducks down and quiets Cat with a kiss, hot and deep and wet and _good_ , and when Kara pulls back Cat doesn’t say anything immediately.

It’s a pretty big win.

Kara starts to unbutton Cat’s dress shirt, _slowly_. Cat remains silent, but her back arches in a silent direction to _get on with it_ , something Kara’s heard audibly multiple times, and usually in the same situation.

But Kara likes this part—likes it _a lot_ , actually. Having Cat beneath and around her, knees pressed to her sides and spread out in front of her. There is something to be said for having the city’s most powerful woman literally aching for your fingers, and while Kara would consider herself a good girl in most definitions of the phrase, she certainly relishes the wicked thrill she gets in making Cat _wait._

“Kiera,” Cat grits out when Kara finally hits the band of her skirt, and tugs the shirt free before she moves to the zipper.

“That’s not my name, Ms. Grant,” Kara says playfully, smiling when the zipper gives and she can push Cat’s skirt up to her waist. The material is bunching—it will certainly need to be dry-cleaned again—but Cat doesn’t seem to care right now (perhaps because she knows it will be Kara’s job to fix anyway).

“ _Kiera_ ,” Cat repeats, pointedly, eyes open and dark and focused on Kara’s own. “ _What_ have you been practicing?”

Kara smiles wide and reaches up to take her glasses off, and set them down on the coffee table beside them. Instead of answering—which is only about 40% intention to piss Cat off further—Kara dips forward, and presses one sweet, innocent kiss just above Cat’s belly button.

And then another just above that. And one above that.

“This isn’t _summer camp_ ,” Cat’s fingers slide through Kara’s hair until she has a handful. She tugs until Kara looks up. She sneers a bit. “You’ve been practicing to be a _Girl Scout_ , I take it?”

Kara just smiles and returns to Cat’s stomach, kissing the soft skin there again and again, nothing more than chaste pecks here and there.

And then, inches below Cat’s bra, Kara breathes out over her skin.

Cat _yelps_. “What—” Kara does it again, higher, just below the lace. “Are you—”

_Again._ She reaches up and pulls the cup of Cat’s bra down, baring her left nipple to the slightly chilled air.

Cat’s looking at her, all traces of irritation gone. Her lips are parted, her breaths heavy, and her eyes are hooded, dark. “You’ve been practicing,” she husks as Kara’s meaning sinks in, and Kara bites back a smile before she breathes out over Cat’s breast. The ice of her breath is visible as it settles over Cat’s warm skin.

“ _Ohhhh_ ,” Cat moans, back arching, head tilting back, and her hand reaching out for the couch. Kara can feel her knees tighten on either side of her, can smell Cat’s arousal get thicker between her thighs.  

“Should I continue?” Kara asks in a whisper, hovering over Cat’s chest to watch her face.

“ _Obviously_ ,” Cat grits out, and Kara can feel the brush of her knees sliding down, her hips moving up and opening.

Kara smiles—as smugly as someone like Kara can—to herself as Cat’s eyes flutter closed, and her fingers curl into the back of the couch in preparation for her next breath.

This time Kara doesn’t make her wait, just blows a short cool burst over Cat’s sternum. It’s too far from the peak of Cat’s breast, from anything more sensitive than the rest of her skin, but Cat’s breath still catches.

“When—” Cat starts to ask a question, but Kara runs her hands over Cat’s waist, past the bunched shirt to settle on her hips while she dips back down to press far-less chaste kisses above Cat’s navel.

This time, when she pulls back, she breathes softly over the wet trail creating little bursts of ice along her skin that melt instantly. “When did you learn?” Cat asks, voice a little shaky, and Kara does nothing to temper the proud grin this time.

“I started working on it a few weeks ago,” Kara says easily, as if Cat Grant wasn’t spread out beneath her on an eight-thousand-dollar couch, the picture of a wanton woman. Her blouse is still hanging open on her shoulders, her bra half in place.

Cat’s eyes slowly open again, the desire to ask more questions plain on her face. But Kara ignores the look, instead pulls Cat up a little until she is straddling her lap, and pushes the blouse down to the floor.

Kara’s fingers settle on the clasp of her bra next, starting to unhook it. But Cat’s fingers pull her focus, ghosting up her arms, over her shoulders until she’s cupping Kara’s face. Her own is open in interest, possibly a little awe; it reminds Kara of both times she’s been revealed to Cat, once willing, once not.

Everything slows for a moment. Kara’s fingers are still on Cat’s bra, and Cat’s palms rest on Kara’s shoulders, while she just _looks_.

It’s not new for them, for Kara—Cat’s done this occasionally, though it never fails to set Kara’s anxiety off. Because even now, after Cat has learned so much about her, become so much a part of her life, _every_ part of her life, a look like this from Cat Grant is unreadable.

And there will always be a part of Kara that doesn’t trust Cat.

“I guess you’re the whole package, then, Supergirl,” Cat murmurs, and then she’s kissing Kara again, controlling the kiss, controlling _Kara_ with her delicate fingers and soft lips and heavy sighs.

When Cat pulls back, Kara holds her gaze, and unclasps the bra beneath her fingers. The lace sags a bit down Cat’s chest, and when Kara drags the material up her arms, she hesitates before pulling back from Kara to let the garment go.

“I thought you might appreciate it,” Kara tries to reply smoothly, suavely, but her smile is too sweet, she can feel the way it pushes at her eyes when she looks down at the beautiful expanse of skin before her.

If Cat wants to mock her for it—and she certainly has in the past, even in moments like _this_ —she manages to stop herself, if only because Kara’s hand runs over the center of her chest, fingers brushing her breasts.

Cat’s fingers slide back into Kara’s hair, the strands woven into a side-braid that hangs over one shoulder, and her nails scrape once, twice, three times over the base of Kara’s skull. It’s nice, and sweet, and gentle with just enough bite.

“Well?” Cat asks, and this time her fingers tug until Kara looks up from her hand, from Cat’s skin. “Do it again.”

Kara had a feeling Cat would enjoy this—a brief mention of ice cubes a few weeks ago had been what started this, after all—but the way Cat’s thighs are starting to tremble the tiniest bit in anticipation? Well, it’s more than she _dreamed_.

“Yeah?” Kara asks—again, the tiniest bit smug—and before Cat can glare at her for making her repeat her request (read: demand), Kara presses her nose just below Cat’s ear, and exhales.

The strangled little squeaking moan is _music_ to her ears. And something she can never, ever mention, she knows.

“More,” Cat moans, fingers digging into Kara’s skin again as she slides her hips forward to rest against Kara’s.

Cat is tiny in her arms, and Kara worries she might swallow Cat whole in moments like this. But Kara moves her kisses down, leaving chilled flesh on her neck, to her throat, _down_ , and Cat clings onto her like perhaps she wouldn’t mind if Kara did.

Kara’s got one hand firm on Cat’s back, and she rests the other on Cat’s thigh, stroking the soft skin with feather-light touches. It’s the perfect counterpoint to the biting sensation of the ice, and Cat starts to roll her hips, searching for the pressure Kara isn’t giving her yet.

Her hair’s gotten a little longer, and when she tips her head back to give Kara space to take her lips lower, the soft strands tickle over Kara’s fingers.

“We don’t have all day,” Cat grits out, and when Kara looks up her eyes are dark with lust, with impatience, with _need_.

Kara just smiles against Cat’s chest, and inches down closer and closer to a nipple, straining for her lips. “Yes, Ms. Grant,” Kara murmurs a little mockingly, but before Cat can snipe back at her, she slides her hand up between Cat’s legs, and presses against the lace. The fabric is slick, Cat’s arousal dampening the front, and Kara blushes a bit at the thought of how _successful_ this plan is.

“Ka—” Cat cuts herself off, but Kara’s heard enough to bring a smile to her face. Getting Cat to break like this, to get her to say her name—not Kiera, not Supergirl, _Kara_ —is such a tell for her boss. A silly tell, Kara thinks, considering the regularity with which they end up like this, but one Cat clings to, regardless.

Kara starts to circle her fingers, pressing the lace against Cat’s clit until her breath catches, and leans back to see Cat’s lower lip between her teeth. Her eyes are open, wide, and they both know what Kara heard, the damning syllable.

But instead of pressing, Kara dips Cat back a little and presses her lips tight together as she exhales. When she takes Cat’s nipple into her cold mouth, Cat lets out a choked scream.

“Kara,” this time she doesn’t hold back, doesn’t censor the name, and Kara rewards her by slipping beneath her panties, slipping her fingers through Cat’s folds and stroking her clit.

Kara repeats the action on her other breast, icing her mouth before teasing her nipple, and when Cat’s back arches deeply, Kara sets her down on the cushions of the couch.

“ _Cat_ ,” Kara breathes out when she pulls back. Cat’s fingers are tugging at her braid, and Kara isn’t sure if she’s trying to take it out or pull Kara back to her breast, so she slides up Cat’s body to give her another kiss.

Her lips must still be cold, judging by the little gasp of surprise she gets from Cat. But Cat kisses her back fast, deep and desperate as she manages to slide Kara’s hair tie off of the braid. It lands between them on the couch but neither of them have the focus or hands to retrieve it, as Kara slips her fingers out of Cat to tug the panties down and off, finally.

They fall to the floor with the rest of Cat’s clothes, and as Kara’s hair starts to fall loose around her, Cat pushes at Kara’s cardigan in a clear order to get undressed.

She slips the sweater off, but her dress is harder, and when she pulls back to unzip it, Cat growls a little and follows her up to avoid losing Kara’s lips. “Don’t you dare stop,” Cat murmurs against her mouth, and Kara isn’t sure if she means the kissing or the ice breath or the undressing.

And it’s not like she’s getting an answer out of Cat, who immediately nuzzles into her neck, leaving wet kisses up the curve of her skin until she’s reached Kara’s ear.

“I said don’t stop,” Cat whispers hotly, and Kara feels a small shiver up her back at the sensation. Cat punctuates her demand by pushing at the skirt of Kara’s dress.

“I need—” her words are cut off by Cat’s tongue tracing the shell of her ear, followed by the rough sensation of her teeth. Before Kara can try to start again, Cat reaches behind Kara to tug at the zipper of the dress.

“This would be a lot faster,” Cat grumbles as the zipper snags on the thin bow belt around her waist, “if you started dressing like a grown-up.” Kara rolls her eyes at the insult—not new—and lets Cat drag her sleeves down over her shoulders until the top is bunched at her waist.

Kara stands to let the dress fall down to the floor, and Cat leans back against the couch to look up at her, eyes even darker than before. “Or if you’d use that helpful super-speed,” she raises a brow.

“Yeah?” Kara asks, and in an instant she is bare, has Cat out of the rest of her skirt, and is setting Cat down gently on her bed across the penthouse. “Like that?”

Cat smirks, self-satisfied in the way she always in when she can get Kara to use her powers for her. (Something that Kara is ashamed to say happens a little too often.) “Like that,” she agrees, and when Kara leans over her on the bed, Cat rolls them so she is settled over Kara’s waist.

“I think you were in the middle of demonstrating that new skill, Supergirl.” Cat leans down and kisses Kara, before pulling back and settling astride her once more. Her lips are curled up in playful smile, but her voice is better suited for the office when she says, “There are better parts of my body for you to practice on. Chop, chop.”

Kara smiles up at her, can’t help the way she rolls her eyes at the order, or the way she _knows_ it must scream affection. This thing between them is not serious, not supposed to be serious. Just something convenient seeing as Cat is one of the only people that knows her secret. And that she may have had a bit of crush on, that started out as admiration and then became something a bit more.

The fact that she’s developing something far too close to _feelings_ for Cat Grant is—well, a little inevitable, in hindsight. But ill-advised and dangerous are also very high on a list of applicable adjectives, and so Kara furrows her brows in mock seriousness, and hooks her hands behind Cat’s thighs. “Yes, Ms. Grant,” she nods, and tugs Cat until her thighs are resting on either side of Kara’s head.

“ _Oh_ ,” Cat moans immediately at the feel of Kara’s tongue, and Kara thinks all trace of her chilled breath has dissipated at this point. Cat’s warm and heavy around her, and when Kara tugs just a bit more, Cat sinks further down onto her mouth, letting Kara’s tongue dip inside of her.

Kara can hear the creak of the headboard from where Cat is gripping it tight, and her hips are moving a bit faster as Kara’s tongue slips up to her clit, and flutters a bit. Kara has a million theories as to why this is Cat’s favorite position, ranging from queening jokes—which Kara is certain Cat wouldn’t find amusing—to the memory of Cat’s quickened heartbeat when Kara had said _It’s not like you can hurt me_ the first time they’d ended up like this.

“Well?” Cat prompts, though the question is broken and lacking all authority despite her attempt to be just that. The fact that her hips haven’t stopped grinding down on Kara’s face don’t help her seem in control, either.

Kara doesn’t say anything, just slides her hands up Cat’s thighs to her hips, careful not to press too hard despite the way she wants to tug Cat closer for what she’s about to do.

She makes Cat wait, almost a full minute, before she breathes out over Cat’s clit in a cool burst.

“Oh!” Cat cries out, her body pitching forward as she clings to the headboard, and Kara slides one hand up to her spine, stroking the sensitive skin there. “Oh, _again_ ,” she demands after a moment of recovery, and so Kara does.

She cools her mouth and sucks Cat’s clit, breathes cooled air over her folds, and then delves between her lips until Cat’s skin returns to the natural warmth.

Cat’s keening above her, making noises that make Kara blush, even with Cat’s thighs trembling around her head. Her eyes flick up to take in Cat above her, her eyes shut tight as she rides the sensations Kara’s causing.

The sight alone is enough to make Kara ache, were she not already pressing her legs together in search of her own release.

“Kara,” Cat moans, dragging out the _a_ , before begging, “ _again_.”

This time Kara complies immediately, slipping her hands from Cat’s thighs to spread her open with her thumbs and circling Cat’s clit with an icy tongue again and again and _again_.

Kara breathes over her sensitive skin again with a normal, hot breath, and Cat comes undone above her; her back stiffens, her grip on the headboard gets tighter, and she rolls her hips forward in one long, last move, desperate to follow the orgasm to the last sensation.

Cat’s body loosens, her grip on the bed goes slack and Kara moves her hands quick up Cat’s waist—unable to stop the smile as Cat’s body shudders under her touch—to support her as Kara presses one last deep kiss to Cat’s slit.

Effortlessly, she lifts Cat up, and brings her down beside her on the bed, propping herself up on one bent arm to look down at her. Cat’s wearing a bit of a dopey grin—another thought that will need to remain in Kara’s mind and not on her tongue—and when she looks up at Kara there’s a brief moment where she looks nothing but sweet and open and loving.

These are the scariest moments for Kara, because she wants _so desperately_ to trust Cat completely. To know that this could be authentic and enduring.

Kara’s unsure if the fear shows on her face or if Cat just wants to kiss her, but suddenly she’s tucking herself back into Kara’s chest, slipping her arm around Kara’s back and tasting herself on Kara’s tongue.

“Well, Supergirl,” Cat murmurs when she pulls back, just enough to kiss Kara’s jaw, and then a bit lower on her neck. “For all of the time it took you to acquire this skill,” she nips at the hollow of Kara’s throat, and she jumps at the action, not the sensation. “You certainly put it to good use quickly.”

Kara smiles at the praise—she can’t help but preen at Cat’s compliments, rare as they are—and lets herself settle back on the bed as Cat makes her way down Kara’s body. “Yeah?” Kara prompts, because her insecurity, especially around Cat Grant, never seems to be soothed.

“Don’t fish, Kiera,” Cat bites out, but her fingers skim the flesh of Kara’s inner thighs to brush teasingly over Kara’s wetness.

Kara can’t be bothered to care about the name when Cat slides two fingers inside of her, her body arching into her teasing touch. As Cat kisses her way back to Kara’s lips, her hair brushes over Kara’s breasts, her neck, falling on either side of her face until Cat presses an almost too-gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“But yes,” she agrees, and slides her fingers deeper inside Kara, thumbs her clit and noses her cheek. “ _Very_ good use.”


End file.
